


Push It

by ChristineQuizMachine



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: (No actual violence; just discussions of it), Anal Fisting, Angst and Feels, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Masturbation, Past Abuse, Porn Watching, Relationship Discussions, Sexual Violence Mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26723548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristineQuizMachine/pseuds/ChristineQuizMachine
Summary: Sometimes, being in a healthy relationship means having embarrassing conversations and open, honest discussions about kinks, boundaries, and even past traumas so you're free to explore and try new things.Wanting to shove your whole fist in your partner's ass is one of those times.
Relationships: Cisco Ramon/Leonard Snart, Past Cisco Ramon/Eobard Thawne | Harrison Wells
Comments: 13
Kudos: 27
Collections: Tales from the Abyss





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp, this is probably the filthiest story I’ve published so far--I mean, folks who know me from the Flarrowverse Shipyard on Discord know that I’ve _written_ filthier, but yeah, this is almost certainly the most obscene thing I’ve posted on AO3. It’s times like this that I’m glad my family members who are also into Arrowverse don’t actually read fanfiction. ʘ‿ʘ
> 
> Anywho, this story is technically part of my “Dogs in the Moonlight” series, but I think it works as a self-contained story, and I’m not sure exactly where it falls in the DitM timeline, so for now, it’ll just stand on its own. I’ll add it in when I’ve got more stories from that series written.

In the video, the guy bottoming was splayed out on his back, his legs spread wide and his arms above his head. He must have been lying on a pillow, as well, because his lower half was elevated just enough to give the audience a great view of his ass—an ass that the guy’s scene partner was currently trying (with limited success) to stuff his entire hand inside.

As Leonard Snart watched, the camera occasionally switched from the guy’s stretched-taut hole to his face. He was moaning and squealing like a stuck pig, his expression a mixture of agony and ecstasy and his eyes somewhat glassy.

Between his dark hair, brown skin (except for an adorably pink set of privates), and full lips, he actually DID bear a slight resemblance to Cisco. Especially when Len let his eyes unfocus, which he generally did when he was lying in his bed alone and jerking off.

He hadn’t _set out_ to find—and masturbate to—porn featuring an actor who looked like his real-life boyfriend. But...well...those website algorithms could be pretty smart sometimes. What, exactly, was he supposed to do when a five-minute clip entitled “SWEET LATINO TWINK FIRST ANAL FISTING” showed up in his recommended list? _Not_ prop up his tablet on his nightstand, press the ‘play’ button, and stroke his cock while he watched the action unfold?

Even though he’d died and come back to life…he was still human, dammit.

The twink starring in the video (his name wasn’t listed in the description, which Len found a little aggravating) was still moaning and whimpering like his scene partner’s fist really _was_ the biggest thing he’d ever taken. Len had seen porn videos where performers were billed as amateurs but very obviously weren’t; however, that didn’t seem to be the case in this particular instance. The twink genuinely seemed to find the penetration challenging. Occasionally, his partner would pull out, and the twink’s asshole (also beautifully pink) would gape and drip thick lube for a second or two before closing up again. And then, after giving the twink a moment’s respite, his partner would dig in once more, again trying to work his entire fist into that snug passage but never quite managing to get it past the widest part of his hand.

These kinds of videos definitely weren’t everyone’s cup of tea. But they were Len’s. Thank God for the internet.

All too soon, it was over; the two performers changed positions so that the twink could get nailed doggy-style, and the tail end of the clip was a few seconds of actual fucking before the picture faded to white and on-screen text invited the viewer to visit the production company’s website for the “members only” full video.

Len cursed under his breath, his hard cock still clutched in his fingers. He wasn’t opposed to paying for porn (especially when it came to tipping independent cam performers), but the production values on that clip had been pretty shitty, and he wasn’t interested in shelling out for the complete movie, let alone signing up for a website membership. He also felt a little disappointed that the twink in the video hadn’t actually _conquered_ his partner’s fist; they’d both seemingly given up and moved onto fucking before the guy managed to take it all.

Then again, maybe he did in the full video? Maybe the top fucked the twink until he was sloppy and loose, and when the twink was back to whimpering and whining because he hadn’t cum yet and _needed_ to, THEN the top turned him over again and slipped his entire hand inside his partner, finally able to get past the tight ring of muscle that had previously denied him entry. And then he pumped his fist while yanking on the twink’s cock, relishing in the incredible heat and contractions while he worked the guy underneath him into a half-feral frenzy...

Len was back to jerking himself off, a bead of pre-ejaculate at the slit quickly mingling with the dollop of lube he’d applied to his fingers to ensure a smooth glide. With his free hand, he tapped the button on the video player to restart the clip, enjoying listening to the twink’s moans and squeals all over again. When he squinted, the resemblance to Cisco became reasonably convincing again.

(The twink’s hair was cropped short and wasn’t nearly as healthy or well-kept as Cisco’s. Len figured his boyfriend would want him to be consciously aware of this distinction.)

Cisco wasn’t in Central City that evening. He and Ralph Dibny were off in Gotham, investigating an apparent meta who’d tangled with Batwoman. Len supposed he could have volunteered to go with them—he hadn’t been to Gotham in years and was curious to see if it was still the “wretched hive of scum and villainy” (as Cisco would probably call it) that he remembered. And it would have been funny to sexile Dibny so he and Cisco could fool around on a plush hotel bed. But he’d worried about coming across as clingy, and he was fairly certain that he still had an arrest warrant (or three) on his head in that city. So he stayed behind, meaning that he had to entertain himself for a little while.

Again: thank God for the internet.

In the video, the twink threw his head back and mewled, his pretty mouth forming a strained ‘O’. He grabbed his partner’s wrist like he was trying to guide the other man’s hand deeper into his hole. _The spirit is willing, but the body is weak,_ Len noted whimsically. He swiped at the tip of his cock with his thumb; he felt like he was getting close.

Cisco knew that Len had a “large insertion” fetish. Len had copped to it when they’d finally sat down and had the kink talk. After all, Cisco had admitted to enjoying restraints and submission and rough sex. Len’s admittance that he liked it when his partners wore cute lingerie or expensive jewelry—regardless of their gender—had seemed super tame in comparison, so he’d felt like he owed Cisco more honesty. And even if he _hadn’t_ admitted it, Cisco would have figured it out eventually. The guy was far too smart to never pick up on how a smile tugged at Len’s mouth whenever Cisco cooed about how big Len’s cock felt inside him, or the way that his eyes always strayed to (even if he never touched) the monster-sized dildos when they were patronizing their favorite sex shop, or the fact that his breath caught in his throat when they were watching porn together and a performer played with a toy that stretched one of their holes (didn’t matter which one) to its limit.

So, Cisco had this information. But so far, he hadn’t really done anything with it. Not the way he’d gone out and bought a cobalt-blue babydoll nightie (which, _damn_ , he looked incredible in), at least. He’d let Len slip a couple extra fingers in alongside his cock while they were fucking, but that was it.

The video had reached the point where the two performers gave up on fisting and rolled over. Part of Len wanted to find a different clip—just for the sake of variety—but he felt like the blood in his brain had pooled in his dick, and it was all he could do to rewind the current video again. He didn’t go all the way back to the beginning, though; he just randomly clicked on a point in the seek bar. Now the other guy was pulling his hand away, letting the camera get a good view of the twink’s dripping, puffy hole.

 _You’re not doing it right,_ Len thought, jerking himself hard (he was _really_ close by now). If he’d been there, he wouldn’t have just sat by the twink’s side, repeatedly trying to jam his hand inside his partner’s ass like a monkey attempting to shove a square block into a round opening. He would have kissed the twink’s belly, sucked on his nipples, played with his balls, kneeled down and whispered in his ear how beautiful he was, how sweet, how perfect. He’d promise Cisco (in his mind, that anonymous twink had _become_ Cisco) that it would feel so good once it was all the way in, and even if it hurt a little, Len would take care of him. And then Cisco _would_ let him in, and Len would finally get the incredible, incomparable sensation that every muscle in Cisco’s lithe, petite body was clenched around his wrist—

“ _Fuck_ ,” Len groaned as he came, splattering messily all over his fingers and stomach. He pumped himself a few more times as he rode the wave of his orgasm, finally stilling when the sensation passed and he was left feeling relaxed (and just a little drowsy).

 _You know you’ve got it bad when you’re fantasizing about your own boyfriend_ , Len thought to himself, though he’d never say it out loud. He did, however, briefly consider snapping a photo of his spent cock (and the sticky mess that was rapidly cooling all over his skin) and sending it to Cisco with the caption, _“Thinking of you.”_ But he decided not to—mainly because he realized it could cause an embarrassing or awkward situation with Dibny. Besides, Cisco knew what Len’s dick looked like.

(And if he’d somehow forgotten in the 48 hours since he and Len had last hooked up, well, that lack of a mental image would be a good motivator for him to get back to Central as soon as possible, wouldn’t it?)

Len took a second to wipe himself off with a tissue from the nightstand, then turned his attention back to his tablet. He’d finished for the evening and was about to exit out of the web browser, but he suddenly wondered if the performers’ names had been in the tags, and that was why he hadn’t noticed them before. So, instead of closing the page, he expanded the video’s information panel. This had the added effect of revealing the comments section. Automatically, his eyes scanned the notes other viewers had seen fit to leave:

> _Want a daddy 2 fist me!!!!_

> _Bottoms sooo fuckin hot. Wats his name?_

> _Lame. he didn’t even take the whole thing_

> _Love it when the bitch squeals like this._

> _Bet that hurt. Dumb slut. :)_

> _Next time just force it in. make him cry._

Len exhaled sharply. _You know better than to read the goddamn comments, Snart._ Doing so was enough of a mental health gamble on news websites and YouTube. The comments section on a free porn website, though? _That_ was practically GUARANTEED to be a cesspool. And remarks like those last three weren’t exactly rare on fisting or oversized toy videos.

He tapped the ‘home’ button on his tablet and then swiped up to close the browser app. That was enough internet for one night. It was late, he’d rubbed one out, and he was ready to sleep. He grabbed his underwear from where he’d deposited it on the bed prior to playing with himself and pulled the boxer-briefs back on. Again, he considered for a second taking his cock in his hand, snapping a photo, and sending it to Cisco (thus implying that he was about to start jerking off instead of having just finished), but eventually decided not to.

If he was being honest, there really _was_ another reason he hadn’t sent Cisco a dick pic: because there was a good chance that Cisco would respond to any insinuation that Len was thinking about him by saying, _“What r u thinking about doing 2 me? ;)”_ And then Len would have to decide whether to keep it vague, lie outright, or actually admit to Cisco that he’d been thinking about doing a sex act that a LOT of people found painful, degrading, or both.

_You’ve got no right._

His blood was starting to itch. He needed to _do_ something, whether it was planning a heist with the Rogues or going on a mission with the Legends or even teaming up with the Flash and his merry band of misfits (which included Cisco, of course, but Cisco almost certainly wouldn’t argue that he wasn’t a “misfit”) to take down a larger threat. Anything to stifle his restlessness, which could turn into anxiety if he wasn’t careful.

...Maybe he and Cisco could try something new?

_You’ve got no goddamn right._

Staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, Len scowled. There wasn’t...there wasn’t any harm in _asking_ , was there? As long as he made it clear that it was okay if the answer was _“No”_ or even _“Fuck no—are you out of your goddamn mind?”_

_**Love it when the bitch squeals like this.** _

**_Bet that hurt. Dumb slut. :)_ **

**_Next time just force it in. make him cry._ **

Len didn’t... _regret_...the things he’d done to Cisco in the past, between running amok with the cold gun and forcing him to make weapons and torturing his brother in front of him. He had done what he’d had to do at those particular moments, which was how he’d always lived his (previous) life. But, here was the clincher: he _wouldn’t_ have done those things if they’d been “together” back then, or the thought of getting with Cisco had actually crossed his mind beyond thinking that he was kinda cute. Because you don’t _do_ that shit to someone you actually have feelings for.

So even though Cisco occasionally _asked_ for Len to be rough with him, and even though Len was usually happy to pull Cisco’s hair or hold him down or bite hard enough to leave bruises on the soft skin of Cisco’s thighs, chest, and shoulders...Len was still extremely hesitant to take things any further than that. He couldn’t say that he’d never actually hurt Cisco, since he already _had_ hurt him (and people he cared about) on multiple occasions. But things were supposed to be different now. And it was absolutely critical that he never, ever forget that.

_He knows about your kinks. There’s no real harm in asking._

_You SHOULDN'T ask him for something like that, though. Not after everything you’ve put him through._

Len exhaled again. He was too old for this ‘lying in the dark and having an existential crisis about your sexuality’ crap. And that wasn’t the kind of person he was, anyway. He and Cisco were both adults; he could ask Cisco about fisting and Cisco could just say “yes” or “no.” It didn’t _have_ to be as big of a deal as he was making it in his head.

As he rolled over onto his side—his preferred sleeping position—part of him wished that Cisco was there with him. Not just because he would have rather done something with him that evening instead of engaging in a _ménage à un_ , but because there was something about Cisco’s sweetness and easy-going nature that tended to keep Len calm when he was feeling antsy.

 _“You’re so fuckin’ fucked, Boss,”_ Mick had laughed one time when he’d caught Len grinning at a cutesy text message that Cisco had sent him. At the time, Len had responded by telling him to shut up. But as he fantasized vaguely about slipping his fingers inside Cisco, and Cisco keening and sighing and— _oh yes_ —begging in response, and then suddenly felt a bit guilty for thinking about such things...he realized that Mick was probably far more correct than Len wanted to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I THINK I tagged everything properly, but do let me know if I missed something! I wasn’t 100% sure how to warn for those violent comments Len saw on the fisting video, so I just went with my gut. I’m open to suggestions, here!
> 
> As always, if you read this far, please, PLEASE consider writing a quick comment, since nothing quite makes me smile more than getting that little notification email from AO3. And feel free to hit me up on Tumblr, too: [christineWIPmachine](https://christinewipmachine.tumblr.com/) is my fanworks blog, while [ChristineQuizMachine](https://christinequizmachine.tumblr.com/) is my personal/general blog.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait between updates; real life got in the way, as real life is wont to do. I also got seriously stuck on this chapter, and I finally figured out that (at least part of) the problem was that it was just too damn long. So, yeah, it and the next chapter (which--fingers crossed--should be finished in the next couple weeks) were originally a single installment, but they aren’t anymore. That DOES, unfortunately, mean that there’s no full-blown smut in this chapter. Boo! But hopefully, there IS enough sensual smooching and ColdVibe fluff to tide folks over! ੧(❛▿❛✿)੭

Cisco and Dibny got back from Gotham City the next morning, and though Cisco texted Len to tell him that he was back, he didn’t swing by Len’s place for breakfast—apparently, he’d just quickly gone to his apartment to shower, change his clothes, and drop off his stuff before going to S.T.A.R. Labs. He explained (vaguely) in his text that he had to go to his workshop to build some kind of device for “Team Batwoman,” and though it wasn’t an _emergency,_ per se, it needed to be done sooner rather than later.

The man’s commitment to helping others was admirable, even if Len didn’t always understand it. It also meant that he sometimes forgot to take care of himself, especially when he was engrossed in a project and lost track of time. That was why, at 11:30 a.m., Len showed up at S.T.A.R. Labs with sushi, tempura, and miso soup from a nearby Japanese restaurant for Cisco and himself.

Getting into S.T.A.R. Labs was easy enough; a few weeks prior, Barry (and the rest of the team) had _finally_ allowed Len to have his own code to open the exterior doors. After several months of Len thwarting the security systems every time he wanted to visit, they’d come to accept that they _couldn’t_ prevent him from coming and going as he pleased, and it was easier to let him do so than it was to constantly fix broken door locks and wrecked keypads.

(He would never, _ever_ forget the day he’d shown up, discovered an expensive Montgomery lock in place, disabled it within 15 seconds, and walked inside the building, only to find Caitlin Snow and Felicity Smoak standing there, staring at him like they couldn’t believe their eyes. He’d then thrown the ruined keypad panel at their feet, flipped both of them off, and walked to Cisco’s workshop without saying a word. Later, he’d learned that Caitlin had brought Felicity all the way to Central from Star City with the specific intention of having her create a “Snart-proof” door-vetting system. _“Well, THAT was a waste of a trip,”_ Len had remarked simply when Cisco informed him of this fact.)

However, just because he was officially an “approved guest,” that didn’t mean that the members of Team Flash didn’t still look at him with a combination of annoyance, skepticism, and—in Dibny’s case—anxiety whenever they caught him roaming the halls of the facility. It was a bit of a relief, then, that he didn’t run into anyone on his way to Cisco’s workshop; he didn’t even open his mouth until he was standing outside the doorway to the room.

“Knock, knock,” he said in the direction of the back of Cisco’s head. He’d had to practically shout the words, as Cisco’s phone was currently blaring some pop-punk song that Len had heard before on the radio but the name of which he couldn’t remember.

At the sound of Len’s voice, Cisco looked up. He was wearing one of his regular graphic t-shirts (today’s design: a complex diagram that depicted the structural formula for caffeine) and his hair was slightly frizzy, the way it usually got when he let it air-dry instead of using a blowdryer. But once his face parted into a grin, Len couldn’t help but think that the guy looked adorable. “Hey!” Cisco said. “What are—? Wait, hold on.” He leaned down and tapped his phone with his elbow to turn off his music, plunging them into (a comfortable) silence. “Sorry. As I was saying…hey.” He smiled again. “What’re you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d come by and make sure you ate lunch.” Len showed off the bags in his hand. “I brought stuff from Juunin Tooiro.”

“Oh, my Lord—that sounds AMAZING,” Cisco said, and he wasn’t being sarcastic. ”My stomach started growling a few minutes ago, but I was just gonna heat up a Cup Noodle thing I found in the kitchen cupboard the other day.” He glanced down at the pile of miscellaneous tech covering his work table, as well as his hands, the latter of which Len abruptly realized were covered in some kind of grease or oil. “Unfortunately, I’m not exactly at a stopping point right now. Can you gimme, like, five minutes?”

“Sure.”

“Cool. Pull up a stool or something.”

Len obeyed, grabbing an empty chair from a few feet away and dragging it over to where Cisco was currently fitting pre-cut pieces of metal together like a puzzle cube. He sat quietly for a few seconds, fully intending to let Cisco work without bothering him...but then Cisco stuck his tongue out absentmindedly while he was pressing two fragments into place, and Len decided then that he didn’t want to wait, after all.

They were alone, and while there was a chance that The Flash could come zipping in unannounced, Len figured that Barry was probably at his “real” job this time of day. So he reached out, snaked a hand under Cisco’s chin, and splayed his fingers over Cisco’s right cheek to keep his head in place. Before Cisco could ask what he was doing, Len leaned in and planted a kiss on Cisco’s temple. Cisco’s hair smelled citrusy, and it mingled with the scent of his Axe body wash to tickle Len’s nose in a way that almost made him feel hungry.

“I missed you while you were away,” Len murmured before pulling back.

Cisco laughed playfully. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did,” Len insisted, matching his irreverent tone. “I was _very_ lonely.”

“Liar. You just watched Latino twink porn, jerked off, and went to bed.”

For a moment, Len actually thought that Cisco might have hacked his tablet and peeked at his recent web activity. Pulling that off was certainly within his range of skills. By the time Len realized that Cisco hadn’t been serious, Cisco had already noticed—and interpreted—his startled expression.

“Wait, is that REALLY what you did last night?! Oh, my God—I was kidding!” He laughed again, leaning against his work table for support. “Damn, Snart. You’re getting predictable in your old age.”

“Who’re you calling old, you brat?” Len replied, rolling his eyes.

“You, Mr. Snow Miser,” Cisco said. After a few more giggles, he turned to Len. “Well, did it give you any fun ideas, at least?”

Len’s breath caught in his throat. Immediately, he remembered the sweet twink in that video: legs spread wide, head thrown back, whining and moaning while his partner tried to fist him. Now that Cisco was there, sitting next to Len and smirking, it was even easier to imagine Cisco splayed out on his bed so that they could emulate the performance.

But...he was still on the fence about bringing it up at all. So Len simply said, “Maybe,” and hoped that his indecision could be mistaken for an attempt to sound mysterious and sexy.

Luckily, Cisco was Cisco, so that trick totally worked. “‘Maybe?’ Oooh. Alright.” His face broke into another silly grin. “Okay, sorry, but I’ve gotta ask--did you actually _search_ for Latino twink porn? Or did you just happen to come across it?”

“A _single_ video like that was in my recommendations on _one_ particular site,” Len replied shortly.

“Oh, so your web browser agrees with me that you’re getting predictable?”

“Alright, that’s it: I’m gonna eat all of this by myself.” Len grabbed the sacks of food and stood up. There was a couch on one side of the workroom that Cisco had breached in and set up _“for power nap purposes”_ , and Len walked over to it, dropped down in the middle of the cushions, and opened up one of the bags. Almost immediately, the aroma of shrimp tempura wafted out.

And with that, Cisco totally changed his tune. “Ack, I’m sorry! Save some for meeeee!” he whined, sounding utterly distressed.

A few minutes later, Cisco declared himself at a stopping point, and—after running out of the room to wash his hands and then coming back—he joined Len on the couch, where they enjoyed a casual lunch together. Cisco told Len a little about his trip to Gotham (apparently, it wasn’t a _total_ shithole anymore, but Cisco wasn’t planning to relocate there anytime soon), and while Batwoman hadn’t been exactly “happy” to accept help from Ralph and Cisco, her team certainly had, and they very much appreciated the tech Cisco was currently building for them.

“So, what is it? The thing you’re working on, I mean?” Len asked, glancing over at Cisco’s table.

“It’s a sonic weapon that targets and destroys certain types of plant life based on their natural vibrational frequency,” Cisco said. He stuck the last piece of sushi in his mouth and licked the stray bits of sticky rice off his fingers (leaving Len to try not to fixate on that particular gesture). “See, this meta—who, incidentally, is operating under the same name as one of Bat _man_ ’s old foes; talk about uncreative!—can make plants do her bidding. Before we caught her, she managed to hide a bunch of crazy, mutant seeds all over the city. They’re harmless, for now, but if she manages to escape from GCPD custody and activate them, it could be nasty.” Cisco pointed to the table. “That thing’s gonna help Batwoman’s team locate and neutralize them without causing too much collateral damage.”

“Sounds...complicated,” Len said. “Maybe I should steal it and sell it on the black market.”

“See, when you crack jokes like that, it makes me want to tell you to stop visiting me at S.T.A.R. Labs,” Cisco said. His voice was flat, but there was an amused twinkle in his eye.

“Who’s joking?” Len drawled. “Maybe my entire plan was to come here, soften you up with food, seduce you, and then make off with whatever I could carry.”

Cisco snorted. “So, I guess we’re at the seduction step in your plan right now, huh?” The amusement in his eyes was now all over his face.

Len considered for a second or two making a comment about “throwing away the plan.” But he couldn’t think of anything in that exact moment—with Cisco looking at him like he was expecting to be entertained—so he simply leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. When they were around other people, Cisco was a fan of soft, sweet smooches, but when they were alone together, Cisco liked to be kissed hard and deep, almost like Len was trying to breathe life into him.

Cisco for his part, accepted (and returned) what Len was giving him, even laughing and looking a little giddy when they came up for air. But then his expression turned sheepish. “We probably shouldn’t make out right now.”

Len was fairly sure that Cisco had said that because he was busy with work or—more pressingly—was embarrassed at the thought that one of his teammates could walk into the room at any moment (especially because Cisco’s workspace lacked a door). But he chose to play dumb. “Why? Because we both have fish breath from the sushi and tempura? Fair point, but the simple solution to _that_ is that I just don’t kiss your face.”

“You—!” Cisco started disapprovingly, but his voice trailed off as Len placed one hand on Cisco’s cheek and bent down to kiss the side of Cisco’s neck. “Len...we...ahhh…” There was still a degree of protest in his tone, but it was fading with every passing second.

“Tell me to stop,” Len murmured against Cisco’s pulse point, and he thought he felt Cisco shiver in response. “If you don’t want this, then just say so.”

Cisco bit his lip, and it took all of Len’s self-restraint not to do the same—that is, to not sink his _own_ teeth into Cisco’s lip. “You’re really fucking awful, you know that?” he said whimsically.

“And yet, here we are together. Two horny peas in a pod.” Before Cisco could comment on the stupidity of Len’s last sentence (and, yes, Len had cringed internally as soon as the words left his mouth; his one-liners _really_ hadn’t been up to snuff lately), he moved so that he could push Cisco down onto the couch and get on top of him, essentially pinning Cisco with his body weight. As he continued to pepper Cisco’s neck with kisses, he waited for Cisco to show discomfort, or give any indication that he really wanted for Len to stop, but instead, Cisco reached up and looped his arms around Len’s neck and hoisted himself up just enough to kiss the top of Len’s head. And if _that_ wasn’t an all-clear sign, Len didn’t know what was.

Despite all of Len’s joking about his ulterior motive for coming to S.T.A.R. Labs, he was truly flying by the seat of his pants. He actually had no idea how far Cisco would be willing to take things in that exact moment; he was pretty sure that Cisco wouldn’t want to have sex in the middle of a door-less room during daylight hours, but hey, weirder things had happened in the past, and maybe Cisco was feeling as lucky as Len currently felt…

Once thing he was sure of, though, was that Cisco’s neck had gotten enough attention. So Len headed south; he was still using his body weight to keep Cisco in place, but he managed to reach down with his hands and slip Cisco’s t-shirt up to the man’s armpits. Cisco normally removed all body hair between his neck and his waist (and on his legs, too, when the mood struck him), so the newly exposed skin felt gloriously smooth in addition to warm and soft against Len’s lips.

“Mmmmm,” Cisco sighed, clutching the sides of Len’s head so that his fingers could stroke the salt-and-pepper fuzz on his lover’s scalp. Cisco knew better than to push on Len’s head or shoulders (he’d only had to tell Cisco once, very early on in their sexual relationship to never, _ever_ do that to him, and Cisco had been wise enough to not ask for an explanation), but Len _did_ find a bit of pressure on his temples to be pretty thrilling.

Len moved down even further, finally nosing at the crotch of Cisco’s skinny jeans. He wasn’t wonton enough to mouth at Cisco through the fabric (and doing so when Cisco was wearing jeans seemed futile, anyway), so he settled for gently nuzzling the spot where he knew Cisco’s still-soft cock was currently hibernating.

“Hey, no,” Cisco suddenly interjected. “Not in here.”

 _Damn,_ Len thought with no small amount of disappointment. But he obeyed the decree, moving back up to kiss Cisco’s belly, and he felt Cisco relax underneath him once more.

“That’s better,” Cisco said. “We—GYAH!” The startled noise that escaped from Cisco’s mouth caught Len off-guard, too, and he immediately stopped what he was doing. When Len looked up, he saw that Cisco was looking toward the doorway, so he turned his head in that direction, too. He found himself locking eyes with Ralph Dibny, who had apparently entered Cisco’s workshop while Cisco and Len weren’t paying attention.

Ralph looked pretty befuddled and embarrassed; he’d probably seen the empty worktable, assumed that Cisco was elsewhere in the labs, and figured he’d help himself to some of the tools and supplies Cisco kept on-hand. “Uh, sorry, I was just...I was going to grab...something. I forgot what it was,” Ralph said, staring at the two of them.

“Uh...okay?” Cisco said as he pulled his shirt down.

An awkward silence fell over the room. The three of them looked at each other like they weren’t sure what to do (even though Len thought that Ralph’s course of action should have been pretty obvious).

“Well...I guess come back when you remember what it was?” Cisco said helpfully.

“Yeah, I will,” Ralph replied, still staring.

After another few seconds of silence, Len said, “That means you can leave now, Dibny.” He hadn’t shouted, but he also hadn’t made any effort to hide his annoyance, which meant that the words came out in an aggravated bark.

“Oh, uh...right,” Ralph said, seeming to snap out of his daze. “Sorry.” He turned on his heel and hustled out of the room like he was actually relieved to put some space between himself and Len.

“...I gotta get a door for this place,” Cisco remarked flatly as he watched Ralph’s departure. “Especially now that I’ve got a couch in here. You know how I get when my naps are interrupted.”

Len did, but Cisco’s (adorable) crankiness upon being woken up abruptly wasn’t his primary concern at the moment. “I wonder why I rattle Dibny so much,” he thought aloud, and he was actually being serious. “I was dead by the time he joined your team, so it’s not like we’ve ever fought each other as enemies. And I don’t think I’ve done anything TOO heinous since I came back...”

“I think it’s ‘cuz he knows you by reputation,” Cisco said. “Between his cop buddies, his PI contacts, and everyone on Team Flash, he’s heard stories about the shit you pulled back when you were a bad guy. Even though you’re better now...in his mind, I’m basically dating Zombie John Dillinger.”

Len stared down at him, bewildered. “That is the _weirdest_ thing I’ve ever heard you say while you were sober.”

Cisco stuck his tongue out at him. “I’m not wrong, am I?” He shifted his weight. “Also, I think he’s pretty vanilla when it comes to sex, so when he sees me walking funny or notices bruises ‘cuz we got into shenanigans the night before, he gets...concerned.”

“You’ve shown him the marks?” Len said, raising his eyebrows.

“Dude, the last one you gave me was right on my neck!” Cisco said indignantly. To illustrate his point, Cisco removed one of his arms from Len and pulled aside the collar of his t-shirt to reveal a ‘love bite’ located dangerously close to the shirt’s hem. Though it had faded from angry red and purple to dull green since Len had made it, it was still clearly visible on his skin. “Ralph noticed it while we were in Gotham. Had to explain to him that yes, you’d done it, but no, it wasn’t anything to worry about.” He released his collar; though the fabric mostly snapped back into shape, Len could still see the edge of the mark. “Also, for future reference, if you ask if you can give me a hickey, and I say, ‘Okay, but put it on my shoulder,’ I do _not_ mean right where my shoulder meets my neck, you jackass!”

Len rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll admit it: my aim was a little off. But I don’t remember you complaining while I was making it.”

Cisco looked like he was trying not to smile. “Be that as it may...you’re officially on bite probation. Maybe that’ll teach you to behave.”

“At the risk of seeming _predictable_...I was never one for following rules and restrictions. Just ask all my old POs.” He made a move to put his mouth on Cisco’s neck, but Cisco put his hand up, blocking Len from proceeding any further.

“Len, I’m serious. No more biting until you learn to be more careful about it.” He planted a peck on Len’s lips. “And, Babe, as happy as I am that you swung by...and as grateful as I am that you brought me food...I _really_ need you to stop distracting me. That thing I’m making for Team Batwoman is important. So...let me work, please?”

Len huffed in disappointment. “Fine. I won’t bother you anymore today. You have my word.”

“Like THAT means anything?” Cisco snorted. He shifted his weight on the couch. “Tell you what: if you can be good and let me work until later tonight...and I don’t wind up having to help with a Team Flash emergency...I’ll be all yours for dinner, and anything else that comes afterward. Deal?”

“Can that ‘anything else’ include a blowjob?”

Cisco rolled his eyes. “Oh, for the love of—yes, it can.”

“In that case...it’s a deal. I’ll behave.” Len kissed Cisco’s cheek. “Congratulations: you’ve succeeded where the criminal justice system AND The Flash have all failed.” He moved so that Cisco could get up.

“Incredible. Who would have thought that all it took to keep Captain Cold in line was the promise of a BJ?”

“Don’t tell the CCPD.” Len paused. “Or, do. That could actually work out in my favor…”

As Cisco laughed at that quip, their interactions were interrupted once more; Caitlin Snow strolled into the room with a stack of papers in her hand. “Cisco, why is Ralph afraid to come down the hallway?” Her eyes fell on Len, and her expression dulled. “Oh, Snart’s here. That explains it.”

“‘Snart’ was just leaving, actually,” Len said. He stood up and smoothed out some of the wrinkles in his sweater with his hands. “I only popped by for lunch. So you can tell Dibny that he’s safe...for now.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes. “Good to know.” She turned to Cisco. “The simulations you were running on the Cortex computers are done.”

Cisco jumped up from the couch, his eyes bright with intrigue. “Already? Awesome. Okay, yeah, then I _definitely_ gotta get back to work.” He turned to Len. “I’ll text you if something happens, but otherwise...see you tonight?”

“See you then.” And because Len found it hard to resist the urge to annoy The Flash’s allies, he kissed Cisco hard—probing him with his tongue—when a normal goodbye peck would almost certainly have sufficed (and been more appropriate, anyway).

Again, Cisco accepted the kiss happily but then looked embarrassed when it was over. “Don’t be gross,” he scolded flippantly, giving Len an _I-know-what-you’re-trying-to-do_ look.

“Seriously,” Caitin agreed, though considering the way her eyes seemed to turn bright blue for a moment, it was probably actually Frosty the Snow Bitch (as Len secretly thought of her) who’d vocalized her opinion.

“Whatever could you mean, Babe?” He gave Cisco’s shoulder a playful squeeze and then headed for the exit. “Caitlin—always a pleasure,” he chirped as he passed her.

“Goodbye, Snart,” Caitlin said flatly.

As Len made his way out of the building, he mulled over what Cisco told him about Ralph. It really seemed like a waste for the guy to be super vanilla, what with his stretching powers and all. Abilities like those would almost certainly make a lot of gloriously nasty stuff possible—even easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who’s read “[Sunday Funday](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20425085)” is probably wondering why I’m so obsessed with Ralph seeing Cisco and Len make out. And I honestly DON’T have an answer to that; it’s really just a coincidence that it happened in two seperate, unrelated fics. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> As always, if you read this far, please, PLEASE consider writing a quick comment, since nothing quite makes me smile more than getting that little notification email from AO3. And feel free to hit me up on Tumblr, too: [christineWIPmachine](https://christinewipmachine.tumblr.com/) is my fanworks blog, while [ChristineQuizMachine](https://christinequizmachine.tumblr.com/) is my personal/general blog.


End file.
